


Self Taught

by Heza



Category: Mistborn - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5879986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heza/pseuds/Heza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the adventures of one Mistborn Table Top RPG</p><p>Aimée is a young woman on a street crew of the small town of Anir. She's been alone her whole life, with only the fear of death keeping her alive. She soon gets swept in events far larger than she... The Rebellion namely. Now she has to learn her newly understood powers and overcome her crippling self doubts of who she is and what she can do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been in a right awful slump recently and I’m trying to curb it by writing about my favourite OC Aimée. The story is based around the Mistborn Table Top campaign but I’ll probably deviate from that sometimes when I forget exactly how things went. But it’s also going to deviate from canon a lot. I’ll admit this is mostly self indulgent to make myself happy but if others get a kick out of it too that’d be great. So if you want to see a Mistborn story told through the eyes of a different street skaa Mistborn, you’ve come to the right place.

_ Four _

 

Blood covered her hands and knees and something like a warmth flared and died in her belly. She clutched a knife in her hands. Not her blood. Not her knife. Mommy. What had happened to her Mommy? There had been screaming. A voice yelling.  _ “I finally found y-you!” _ Who had that been? A man’s voice.

People stood above her. Yelling. More yelling. A woman was pulling her away from the body lying across the floor. Mommy?

“We can use her.” The tone was final. Aimée let herself be pulled away. 

 

_ Eight _

 

A hand grabbed at her arm, pulling her close, as panic and confusions set in. He looked at her with hazy eyes, half drunk and half lusty. She shouldn’t have to know what that look meant but she did. She’s so small and he was so large. How much older was he than her? Ten years? Twelve? 

He threw her around as she struggled, his grip like iron, and cared little for the damage he did to her. As her face was dashed into the wall of a building she felt skin above her eyebrow split. Dazed she shook her head. Blood dripped down into her eye.

His scarred hands reached for her again and the panic awoke something inside. Strength blossomed and Aimée shoved him off her. He stumbled back, winded.

A woman charged into view then, standing between Aimée and him. “Fuck off Val what the hell is your problem?!” Aimée slumped against the wall as her strength ebbed away. It had taken so long to save up that much…

The man, Val, spat off to the side. “Why do you always ge’ in the way Eri…” He slurred.

Eri growled and kicked up ash towards him. “Go bang a whore.” Val slunk off after a moment, shooting a glare at Aimée.

 

Eri glanced over her shoulder towards her. Now that the panic had gone Aimée could focus more clearly on the older woman. Eri had been the one to pull her into the small thieving crew at a young age. She looked out for Aimée from time to time.

Not that she cared too much about her. Eri still would hit her if she did anything wrong. Aimée cringed a little under her view. 

“Get yourself patched up kid and get back inside. I won’t help you if he comes back.” 

Aimée nodded and picked herself up off the wall. 

 

_ Twelve _

 

Aimée watched as they shoved the metal hook down the throat of the struggling teenager. He didn’t struggle anymore. Then they moved onto the next person in line.

A thieving crew, not her own, had been caught. Not only that but it had been found that they were abusing something called “allo-mancy”. 

Aimée didn’t know what that word meant. Only that they didn’t like it when Skaa did it. 

 

From where she and Eri stood she could only see the first four people. They were hanging the third one now. 

“Why are we watching this?” Aimée asked quietly. Yes there were laws that citizens had to go watch these things but the rest of the crew had stayed in the hideaway that day. 

“So you can learn what they’d do if they caught you.” Eri shrugged nonchalantly. 

Aimée gave a start, looking up towards her so fast that her braid whipped from one shoulder to the other, jaw dropping open. “But why would- I’m not a-” She sputtered. She knew fate never had kind things in store for Skaa but this…?

“Cause you’re a half-breed. Aren’t you?” Eri looked down at her, and spoke in hushed tones. “The night I found you. That looked like a nobleman trying to clean up his mess to me.” She looked back towards the execution ground. The Obligators leading the hanging had gone out of sight now but the screams and gurgles could still be heard. “I wonder how you got away…”

 

Aimée didn’t answer. She felt cold.  _ “I finally found y-you!” _ . The man with the stutter. She had long believed that he had killed her mother but was he really her father?

What did that mean for her?

 

_ Seventeen _

 

Aimée was good at picking locks. Her small fingers worked quickly at the small safe that was hidden behind the merchant's stall. It was early morning and the mists were still just barely clinging to the world. At this time of day the mists weren’t so scary. They were what shieled her and Eri from view right now. 

“Could you work any faster…?” Eri huffed. Aimee glanced up to see her squinting as if that would help her see through the mists.

“I’m going as fast as I can.” Aimée shook her head as she watched Eri a moment. “Just tell me if you see anyone.”

Eri glanced down and, for a moment, something akin to pity was in her eyes. That look confused Aimée. Eri had been looking at her like that for the better part of a year now and wouldn’t tell her why.

 

The lock sprang open. “There..!” Aimée hissed, reaching inside to pull a small bag of coins out. With any luck there would be enough there for the crew and a little to save for themselves.

“HEY!” A voice barked as Aimée handed the bag to Eri. “Who’s there?!”

The two of them broke out into a run without a word. Since Aimée had to scramble to her feet, and with Eri’s long legs, the much shorter girl was quickly falling behind. 

“W-wait…!” She breathed as Eri pulled ahead. The other woman did not slow. 

A hand suddenly grasped the back of her shirt. Aimée instinctively grabbed at the strength she had gathered and  _ pushed _ . She elbowed the man as hard as she could and he fell back, wheezing. 

Pleased, Aimée began to run again. Eri was but a shady figure in the mists now but surely she’d find a corner and wait for her to catch up-

 

A sudden cold numbness fell over her. The shock of it was so strong that Aimée stumbled and fell to the ground. She couldn’t feel anything. Even the rush of being chased was just… Gone.

“Now that,” a hand grabbed at her shirt again and pulled her up to her feet, “was clearly a pewter assisted shove!” he was still wheezing but his grip was so strong. Not that Aimée was struggling. She was so numb…

“Eri…” She muttered, dazed, looking about for the older girl. In the fading mists she could just catch a glimpse of her. Would she help her?

“The Steel Ministry is going to be very interested in you.” The man was pulling her back to his stall. Looking for something?

Steel Ministry. That should scare her. It should have scared her. Eri’s stopped for a moment before continuing on. Just as she disappeared from view something was cracked over Aimée’s head and everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

The first sensation Aimée became aware of was the ash in her mouth and nose. She spluttered and coughed as she sat up, shaking her head. It hurt! How long had she been out? 

Aimée took stock of her surroundings though it some time before her eyes would focus on anything. She was in a cramped cell of some kind and one that was clearly not swept often given the ash absolutely everywhere. She coughed up some more. In the corner of the room, outside of the cell, a lone guard sat at a desk.

 

She didn’t even try speaking to him. At best she’d be ignored and at worst he might do something to hurt her. Aimée continued to look about, giving a jolt when she saw her things laying across a table. There wasn’t much. Just her precious things. If any of it was damaged…!

She slumped back against the wall of her cell. What would it matter if it was damaged? She had been caught. The fact they hadn’t killed her yet meant something far worse was coming. What had the merchant said she had done? A pewter assisted shove? What did that even mean?

She thought back to the day she had seen the hanging with Eri. Hadn’t Eri said that she was at risk for that? 

Aimée put a hand over her chest and clutched at the material. “Lord Ruler…” She swore feeling her blood run cold. The guard in the room looked over his shoulder at her.

 

And that was when a Terrisman ran inside. Both Aimée and the guard jumped. “Your fellows are being accosted outside.” He spoke quickly with a soft, higher pitched voice than Aimée would have expected from someone so tall. “They need your assistance.” His voice was so gentle. Aimée had never seen a Terrisman before. Most didn’t transverse her end of town.

The guard didn’t question him and ran outside. Who would? Terrisman worked for Nobles after all. If he was there then a Noble Lord and Lady was nearby. 

Aimée chewed on her lip, watching the Terrisman. Maybe once he left she could slip out or pick the lock or-

He was staring at her.

 

Aimée narrowed her eyes a little. Perhaps glaring was a stupid thing to do but… Well she was on edge.

But apparently a tiny skaa girl glaring at him wasn’t enough to stop him from coming over to her cell. Aimée pushed herself back against the wall.

“Oh stop that.” The terrisman chastised her as he placed his hands on the bars. “I’m here to help you.”

Sceptical, Aimée tilted her head, eyes still narrowed. Despite the glare her heart was thumping hard against her chest.  “Why?”

The terrisman sighed. “They have you set up to be hanged and you’re questioning a rescue? Here just… Drink this.” And he slipped a little vial between the bars of the cell. The liquid was clear and glittering flakes settled in the bottom.

Aimée did not take it. “What is that?” She wasn’t about to poison herself.

The terrisman gave it a shake. “Child if I wanted you dead I’d just walk out. This will show me how useful you’ll be to me.”

She reached a hand out to take it. Annoyingly her hand was trembling. “So you’re going to use me.” 

“I’m hiring you.”

Aimée almost dropped the vial. This terrisman was… part of a crew? Weren’t terrisman supposed to be docile people who lived in mountains or worked for nobles? She hesitated another moment before popping the cork off and downing the contents.

 

It was bitter, like ale but without the flavour, causing Aimée to cough. And as the liquid settled her eyes widened in shock and this time she did drop the vial. It fell to the floor with a clink.

The man’s grip on the bars tightened a moment. “What do you feel?”

Aimée put a hand over her stomach. “Strength… A lot… Different ones?” She spoke very slowly as she tried to process exactly what was going on. It was like the strength she used to push the merchant away. Only more. A lot more. And not just the one strength either.

At that, the terrisman pinched at the bridge of his nose. “So that’s what Nosmont ment by high profile. Fine. Keep back.” He sighed once more before putting his hands on two of the bars.

Aimée watched him, perplexed. The man was as skinny as a pole. What could he possibly do?

She gave a start as he, for just a moment, seemed to  _ grow _ and the bars were bent to give her space to crawl out. The man looked normal sized again. Aimée blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Wha-” she began but the terrisman cut her off.

“We haven’t the time now hurry. The guards won’t be distracted for long.” He waved her through the bars.

Aimée licked her lips. “I need to get my things first.” She dashed out the cell and to the table. She shoved all her things in her bag but she slipped on a necklace with a small wooden charm. It had been her mother’s. A vague memory of it being handed to her was all Aimée could recall about it.

“Hurry…!” The terrisman urged again as he glanced out the door. “The guards are still gone we need to vanish.”

Aimée darted out the door behind him. Unlike Eri the terrisman did not allow himself to pull too far ahead. She didn’t allow herself to think much more about what had happened.

 

Not that they were running so much as walking with speed and keeping away from the crowded streets. It was only once a wagon with a person in the driver’s seat came into view that the terrisman broke into a full run. Aimée struggled to keep up. 

“That took longer than expected.” It was a woman at the front of the covered wagon. “What happened?” He voice was a bit rough but a different kind of rough than someone who grew up on the streets.  
“She had been captured. Nosmont said to grab her and he’ll meet us in Austerex after he’s gotten away.” The terrisman climbed inside and offered a hand to Aimée.

Austerex? That was to the north. A city dominated by House Hasting wasn’t it? Why there?

Aimée did not take his hand and instead scrambled inside on her own. The terrisman said nothing about this and instead moved to the front of the wagon to be closer to the woman.

“So, leaving now before the town’s on high alert?” He urged. “There’s Steel Ministry people on the way likely.” 

Aimée shuddered. That’s why she hadn’t been killed right away likely. It would take a few days for the officials to get there. The town was too small for a Canton.

“You got it boss.” The woman nodded and urged the horse to move. Aimée was jostled as the wagon lurched forward.

 

Now that she was moving away from her death sentence Aimée allowed herself to relax. By a hair. She was still with two strangers even if they did just rescued her. 

The terrisman spoke first. “You’re very lucky,” he began, “that Nosmont spotted you a few weeks ago and alerted us about you.”

“... Spotted me doing what?” Aimée tucked her knees under her as she sat in the far corner of the wagon. “You need a thief? I can spring locks and stuff.” Most of the time. Every so often things went bad for Aimée. A scar across her hand from the time her pick broke so violently it had slashed across and cut deeply.

The man chuckled lightly. “A useful skill but not what alerted us to you. Nosmont spotted you using allomancy.”

Oh no.

Aimée gave her head a shake. “I can’t do no allo-mancy.” She said quickly, clutching her bag to her chest. “Skaa can’t do that.” They shouldn’t do it anyway or the Steel Ministry killed them harder than normal. 

The woman at the front barked a laugh. “This is why I love street kids.” She looked back for a moment. “Stupid as a bag of ash.”

Aimée bristled.

“Francine.” The terrisman said flatly. The woman, Francine Aimée supposed, only gave a snort and focused on guiding the horse again.

He turned back to Aimée. “It’s true that the power is incredibly rare in Skaa.” He explained to her. “Generally there’s some noble blood in their family line somewhere.” He glanced her over and Aimée shrank back a little. “But one of your parents is a noble.” He said it matter of factly.

Aimée gave a small jolt. “How did-” 

The man smiled. “There’s two types of Allomancers. Those who can use one power are Mistings. Coinshots, Soothers… You may have heard terms like that before?”

Aimée nodded hesitantly. She had heard some people whispers such names before. Nobles could do those things. If it was a Skaa who could she generally didn’t hear about it until they were found dead.

“Someone who can use all the powers are called Mistborn. And since you told me you could feel  _ all _ of the metals that means you’re a Mistborn.”

 

Aimée’s eyes nearly bulged out her head. Mistborn? Those were myths. Stories people whispered in the night. “I thought they were made up. Or nobles.” And monsters. Mistborn were always dangerous killers.

“Mistborn are incredibly rare. Half-skaa ones like yourself even more so.” The man leaned forward. “This is why we sought you out. You can make better for yourself with us, learning about your powers, than with a two-clip thieving group.” 

Aimée chewed on her lip. “So you’re not a thieving crew? What are you?”

Something like fire lit up in the man’s eyes. “We’re taking down House Hasting. Whatever we can do to make them hurt and fall we’ll do it.” The fires settled. “Thieving may be part of it. So might be destroying one of their plantations. And your skills, once you’re trained, would be a fantastic asset to the cause. What do you think…” He trailed off. “I… Never asked for your name. Apologies. I am Gael.” He made a sort of jerking motion, as if to move, but stopped himself. “And you?”

She clutched her bag closer to herself. “... Aimée. It’s Aimée.” She licked her lips again. “So. Attacking nobles? I can get behind that.” 

Gael gave a small smirk at that. “You’ll find a reason to hate Hasting. They don’t make it hard.” He glanced her over again. He was doing that a lot. Aimée didn’t like it. “That being said I don’t want to ignore whatever goals you could possibly have for yourself. We can possibly help with that.”

She frowned a little. Goals for herself… For so long it had been simple. Eat. Sleep. Survive. Just keep going as long as she could. But now, she learned, she had power. She was a Mistborn. And Mistborn were killers. Everyone said so. She clutched her bag tighter. The dagger inside, the same one she had taken from her mother’s corpse, threatened to split the material it was wrapped in. “If it comes up I’ll tell you.” 

 

Gael nodded. “Alright. For now, to Austerex.” He paused. “Oh and you may wish to burn off the metal inside you Aimée. From what Nosmont tells me unburned metals could lead to sickness or worse.”

Aimée stared at Gael like he had grown a third head. “What?” She figured metals meant the flakes in the vial. They had glittered like metal...  “Burn? I don’t get it.”

Francine snorted again but said nothing. Gael was a little more patient. “I’m not sure myself, I am no Allomancer, but it means to use your powers. Use them all up in one go for now. Flaring? I think Nosmont calls it that….” Gael was musing more to himself now. 

Aimée figured she understood what he meant. She grabbed all her new strengths and  _ pushed _ them with all her might.

 

After nearly throwing herself from the wagon Aimée decided to never do that again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

 

As Aimée nursed a massive headache she watched the countryside roll by. She had never left town before. She had often wondered just what the world beyond looked like. 

Now she knew. More ash.

Gael had apologized, somewhat dismissively, for his advice and told her to burn much more gently. Then he had retreated to his corner and pulled out some paper. Aimée stopped paying attention to him after that and focused instead on the feeling in her stomach.

Now that she was “burning” much more gently she could see that each power faded differently. The one she was most familiar with went the fastest. The others faded slower, like a slow burning candle. 

Aimée wasn’t entirely sure she liked what it was doing though. She felt every bump of the wagon and every sound was piercing her ears and was the cause of her headache. The strangest, perhaps, were the blue lines that sprung from the middle of her chest outwards. If she reached out with her hand she couldn’t feel them but if she thought about one line too hard she could feel… Something. Like she was pushing or pulling on something very heavy. 

The sensation that lasted the longest was the one that made her feel everything more. When it finally “burned” away by mid afternoon Aimée breathed a sigh of relief. That was one problem gone. 

Now the more pressing problem. Being with two strangers who she knew absolutely nothing about. She stole glances at them on occasion. Francine was a blonde haired skaa woman with a numerous amount of scars across any visible point of her body. She kept her eyes ahead on the road. While not exactly at ease she didn’t seem nervous about Gael at all. Must have been working with Gael for a while now then. Everything about Francine reminded Aimée of a guard. Always ready.

And as for Gael… The bald terrisman interested her. She had never seen a terrisman before but already Gael contradicted everything she had ever heard about them. He wore plenty of metal jewlery but he was planning the fall of a Great House. Not at all dolice then.

Interesting people. But interesting didn’t mean dangerous. Aimée didn’t know what they would do to her if she upset either. Would they beat her like Eri would? And Gael. If he was anything like Val…

Aimée tucked her knees further under herself. She was a deadly Mistborn now, wasn’t she? Surely she could handle herself now.

 

Eventually the sun set and the mists began to form. Gael seemed on edge as they settled for the night. Aimée didn’t ask why.

Francine crawled into the back of the wagon after tying up the horse. “We should get to Austerex by the end of tomorrow.” She sat down with a bit of a thump. “Is Nosmont meeting us there?”

Gael nodded. “Yes. He said he had something to get before meeting with us.” He kept stealing glances outside. 

“Hmmph. Probably rather steel jump over than ride with us.” Francine grunted as she opened a bag nearby. Aimée peeked over. Was that bread inside?

“He  _ is  _ a Mistborn. They’re all like that.” Gael shook his head a little. “Him not as much as some I’ll give him that.” Gael took a piece from Francine as she offered him one.

“You already got one?” Aimée piped up, perplexed. Why bother with her then?

“Nosmont mostly does his own thing.” Gael huffed slightly. “And besides, two Mistborn are better than one.” And he handed Aimée a piece of bread.

She didn’t take it at first. She had nothing to offer back and in her old crew everything had a price if you didn’t get it yourself.

Gael hesitated before giving the bread a little shake. “Aren’t you hungry?”

She certainly was. When was the last time she had eaten? “I’ve got nothing to give you.” Aimée shrugged a little. She could ignore her growling stomach for a bit longer.

Gael blinked before putting the piece of bread physically in Aimée’s hands. “You don’t owe me anything.” He watched her curiously.

Aimée held out another moment before hungrily tearing into the bed. Maybe these people weren’t so bad. 

 

Gael and Francine didn’t chat much once they were finished their small meal. Gael went back to his papers and Francine went to check on the horse. Aimée, while a little more at ease about them, didn’t try to initiate conversation. Instead she watched the mists outside.

She wasn’t trying to look past them but was focused instead on the mists themselves. She reached a tentative hand out. The mists flowed around it lazily. Why the terms mistings and Mistborn? What about the ability to use allo-mancy connected them to the mists themselves? Aimée hadn’t been born of mists.

Aimée thought it over until sleep finally threatened to claim her eyes. Seeing that Gael and Francine were both asleep now Aimée curled up in the corner with her bag of things clutched against her chest. For the first time in her memory, Aimée went to sleep without fear of tomorrow.

 

**

 

Aimée watched as the city of Austerex rose in the distance. Even with the ash fall it was a bit of a wonder. She had never seen another city other than the one she grew up in and Austerex clearly many times larger! 

But being that much larger meant that it had guards posted. As they got closer Aimée could see other caravans and wagons being stopped.

“... How are we going to get in?” Aimée asked quietly. “Skaa aren’t supposed to travel.”

“This is why I am here.” Gael smiled though there was a bitter edge to his voice. “Francine, in the back now. Stay quiet.” 

Francine crawled into the back and lowered the front and back cover for the wagon. Aimée sat in the corner closest to the front while Franince nestled in amongst some of the bags of supplies. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. What plan did Gael have to get them by?

“Hello my Lord.” She heard his soft voice speak. It had a different tone now. Like when he had been speaking to the guard watching over Aimée’s cell. “Running a delivery for my Lady.”

“Papers?” A tired voice replied. There was the shuffling papers. Was that what Gael had been working on yesterday?

The wait, while only a few moments, was terrifying. Aimée wanted to sneak by them on her own, rather than hoping Gael’s plan would work.

Finally the tired voice said, “Checks out. Head on in.”

“Thank you my Lord.” Gael said politely. The tired man snorted in return as the wagon began to move again.

 

Aimée waited until Gael opened the front cover. “Well that went well.” He said as he looked back in. “Are you two holding up?” His voice didn’t carry the gently tone anymore.

“As well as I can be sitting inside a stuffy wagon.” Francine grumped. Gael shook his head a little.

“So where are we going?” Aimée peered outside without sticking her head out. She could just catch the view of moderately nice, if ash stained, buildings. 

“Our safe house.” Gael explained. “We’ve been set up there for a few weeks now.”

“Are there more of you there?” She caught a glimpse of a passing noble carriage and ducked her head further inside.

“No no.” Gael shook his head. “It’s only Francine and I and Nosmont on occasion.” 

Aimée bit down on her lip. He was planning on taking down a Great House with three, maybe four people? She didn’t dare point this out. He had saved her and she didn't want him to regret that choice.

They continued into Austerex, the buildings getting shabbier and shabbier, until they came upon a dirty two story building. It was sturdy, if nothing else. This area of town looked like it hadn’t seen a proper ash disposal in some time now.

The first floor, it turned out, was a makeshift stable for the horse. Had a lock and everything. Not that it would stop someone who was really determined to get at the animal but Gael didn’t seemed all that concerned as he and Francine carried their bags upstairs. Aimée followed behind them quietly.

The second floor was smaller than the hideaway she had grown up in but with fewer people it was far less cramped. There was a desk pushed against the wall, a rickety chair, and a large collection of un-spun wool. Other than that the room was empty. A single door was opposite of the staircase and there was one ash stained window. 

To Aimée it was one of the nicest places she had ever been in.

 

Francine dropped her bags on the floor and sat on the wool. She sank into it a little before settling. Gael however gestured Aimée over. “Alright. You’re welcome to make yourself at home Aimée.” He placed his things on the desk. “At some point Nosmont should be here but he’s just as likely to make us wait weeks before showing up again.” He scoffed a little as he said that. “But hopefully he won’t make us wait too long since I would rather not start until you’ve had some train-”

There was a pound at the door downstairs. Aimée gave a jump and she was three steps into a scamper before she realized what she was doing.

Gael looked towards the stairs and then at stared expectantly at Francine. Francine gave large exaggerated sigh and made a show of stomping down the stairs.

“Who’s..?” Aimée began but Gael held up a hand for her to be silent. She could practically seen the tension on him.

He relaxed as Francine returned with a scruffy haired young man behind her.

“Hey Gav.” He gave a lazy wave. “Thought I’d drop by.” Aimée looked him over, confused. Who was Gav? He had been looking at Gael…

He was wearing a cloak that seemed to purposely be in shambles. It was mottled grey in colour with some parts darker and some lighter.

“Hello Nosmont.” Gael greeted. He seemed a little more at ease as Nosmont approached. “Trust you weren’t followed?”

“I’m as sure that I wasn’t followed as I am sure you don’t have a-” Nosmont began, a small smile on his face, but was quickly cut off by Gael.

“If we could not begin the evening with jokes like that I’d appreciate it.” Gael’s voice was completely deadpan. 

Nosmont rolled his eyes. “Fine I’ll leave your ego intact today. That’s not why I’m here this time.” Which implied there were times he showed up and insulted Gael and left. From what little Aimée already knew of him that seemed perfectly likely. 

 

She was so busy contemplating the possible relationship Gael and Nosmont had that she barely noticed that Nosmont pointed at her and said “That’s why I’m here.”

“Huh?” She focused back on him. Right Gael had said something about training.

“... Lord Ruler she’s a scrawny little thing isn’t she?” Nosmont snorted as he walked over towards them. 

Aimée bristled slightly. It wasn’t an inaccurate statement but the slight edge to Nosmont’s voice made it clear it wasn’t just an observation. Though, unlike his banter with Gael, there was no grin on his face. 

“Stop glaring.” He waved a dismissive hand at her. “So which are you? Misting or Mistborn?” He reached a hand down to his hip as he looked her over, fiddling with something on his hip.”

Aimée shuffled uncomfortably for a moment and clutched at her bag. “I… Mistborn.”

“Thought so.” Nosmont nodded and from his pocket he produced a little glass vial. “Here. Drink this and I can go over the basic eight metals with you.”

Aimée took the vial with a frown. “... The one Gael gave me made my head hurt.”

“Wait Gael gave you a vial?” Nosmont sounded surprised and he looked over to where Gael was seated at the desk. “What did you do that for?” 

“You said to test if she was Mistborn or not.” Gael replied, not looking up from what he was working on. “So I gave her a vial.”

“You gave her a full mistborn vial and had her burn it?” Nosmont snorted again. “I’m not sending you any more allomancers…” He looked back to Aimée. “No wonder you didn’t handle it well. Look what’s in there is smaller amounts of the eight basic metals. They’ll be a lot easier to handle.” He glanced around. “Let’s go over there and I’ll go over the metals and what they do with you.”

Aimée looked down at the contents and nodded. Time to learn about being a Mistborn.

 

The eight metals Aimée drank this time were indeed much much smaller than the ones she had burned yesterday. Perhaps only a minute or two of each. Nosmont only wanted to give her a feeling for each metal as he described them.

Tin turned out to be the source of headache. It enhanced all her senses. The most interesting pairs to Aimée however had been iron and steel, and brass and zinc.  Manipulating emotions sounded fascinating and iron and steel had caused the blue lines. Nosmont was currently explaining those. 

“The most important thing you need to remember,” he said after he pulled his lock pick back into his hand using iron, “is never get into a pushing or pulling fight with someone who’s heavier than you.” He gave her another glance over. “Which for you means everyone. Seriously unless you’re up against a kitten just don’t.”

Aimée bit back an angry retort. “Got it. So… Just practice using these then?” the last of her steel ran out as she gave the practice clip on the floor a gentle push. It really did feel more like she was pushing herself against the floor. 

“Not without someone there to teach you no.” Nosmont shook his head. “Won’t do anyone any good if you manage to kill yourself or get spotted.” he rubbed his scruff thoughtfully. “Though as long as you remember to burn copper… Yeah alright here.” He handed her another vial. This one had far more metal glittering at the bottom. “Make sure you always have one of these on hand. And eventually a bag of clips. Only actively practice copper, pewter, and tin.” He told her. “And just burn the others off without using them. I’ll take you out into the mists to practice… Some other time.” And he gave a dismissive wave.

Aimée glanced to the window biting down on her lip. Nosmont said things about how tin let an allomancer’s eyes pierce the mist and how using steel and, only if one was a Mistborn, iron could let one “soar” outside but Aimée wasn’t exactly sure how. Lessons like this weren’t enough.

“Um. One thing?” She asked as Nosmont got up to leave. “You said these were basic metals? So… Are there more?”

“Hmm?” Nosmont glanced down at her. “Oh. Yeah. Gold and Atium. Gold’s… Useless. And atium makes a Mistborn damn near invincible.” He continued leaving.

“How-” Aimée began but Nosmont was not stopping. 

“Don’t have time. I’ll be back in a few days Gael.” He thumped down the stairs.

 

Gael came up beside Aimée as she stood up. “So. What do you think of Nosmont?” He asked.

Aimée dusted ash off herself and shrugged. “I just want to learn more about metals.” She said honestly. And she did! That little explanation hadn’t been enough. She wanted to really experience this “steel jumping” Nosmont had mentioned.

“Well hopefully he returns soon. I don’t know what he expects me to do with an untrained Mistborn.” He put a hand to his chin. “But if he doesn’t come back soon enough we’ll just have to go ahead-”

The door downstairs opened again and for a moment Gael tensed. Instead of a person coming up the stairs a bundle of cloth came up and settled on the top step. “I expect this back someday!” Nosmont called before slamming the door shut.

“... Sometimes I hate how unpredictable he is.” Gael shook his head. “That I assume is for you Aimée.” He gestured at the cloth.

“It is?” Aimée blinked in surprise before walking over to it. As she picked it up several lock picks clattered to the floor and the material unfolded. What Aimée had thought to be several scraps of cloth all connected together towards one end. It took her a moment to realize she was holding something similar to what Nosmont had been wearing. It was a little ratty and cut to fight someone of her height.

“A mistcloak.” Gael observed. “Wonder where he got that one. They’re usually tailor made for the Mistborn.”

Aimée stared at it in shock. Tailor made and he had just given her one? This one was clearly a larger one with the tassels cut down to size but… Who were these people? 

She attempted to fold it back up but the many tassels made that a little difficult. Mistcloak. Another connection to the mists outside.

 

Gael was speaking to her again. Aimée shifted her attention back to him. “You should get some rest now Aimée.” He gestured to the door on the other side of the room. “I have some more things to do in preparation for tomorrow but you can rest. There’s an extra cot in there for you.”

She wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor? That was a first. “... Thanks.” 

Gael sat back down. “You don’t have to thank me. Just live up to being a Mistborn and I’ll consider things equal.”

Right. These people hadn’t rescued her out of the goodness of their hearts alone. They may have been treating her alarmingly well but they wanted her for what she could do. Supposedly do. Everything Nosmont had described had sounded wonderful if beyond her. Could she ever get up to that level? Mistborn were said to be invincible… Or nearly so.

Without another word Aimée took her new cloak and things to the back room. Francine was already sleep on one of the larger cots. Aimée glanced to her in surprise. She hadn’t see Francine leave the room. She had been too absorbed into what Nosmont was saying.

Aimée quietly pushed one cot slightly away from the other two.They may have been nice people so far but a part of her couldn’t help but wonder when that would end. When she made her first mistake?

Still it was nice not to sleep in fear of being woken up by someone pinning her down. For the second night in a row she slept peacefully if lightly.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Much to Aimée’s shock, Gael sold the horse the next day. It was a decent amount of coin he got in return but Aimée still asked, “Why did you sell it? Don’t we need it?”

Gael shook his head as they walked away with Francine in tow. The gruff woman tended to hang back Aimée noticed. “Hopefully not. This is Hasting’s main source of power and we can do a lot of damage here. Eventually I’d like to go to Luthadel but for now we need this money for some other things.”

He didn’t say what and Aimée didn’t ask. Gael was crew leader so clearly he knew what he was doing. 

Though she was getting worried as they entered a richer portion of town. Less skaa milling about her and more nobles. Lesser ones but still nobles. Aimée instinctively looked down at her feet as she walked. She didn’t want anyone saying she looked at them wrong. Or to think she was pretty. Which she wasn’t. Skaa girls shouldn’t be pretty. 

They walked up to a store front for some sort of arms and weapons place. That was another thing Skaa weren’t supposed to do unless they joined the imperial army. Have weapons.

“Wait here.” Gael said much to Aimée’s relief. “I’ll be back in a moment.” And he ducked inside leaving Aimée alone with Francine. 

Aimée hadn’t spoken much yet with the other woman. She was scarred and hard faced and to be honest scared Aimée a little. If either Gael or her were to hit her, Aimée felt it would be Francine. 

Still watching her now confirmed for Aimée what she had been thinking. Francine kept her head up, unlike many Skaa, and seemed tense. Not of fear but out of being ready to spring into action. Francine had fighting experience. But discipline too. Had she been a guard before?

In the end Aimée’s fear won over her curiosity and she spent the rest of the time waiting for Gael looking alternatively at her surroundings and her feet. At any moment she feared a noble would approach and cause trouble.

But eventually Gael returned with something wrapped in a cloth. He looked quite pleased with himself. “Alright you two. We’ve got one more stop to make and then we can begin our first step.” 

“What were you getting there?” Francine asked. “I thought we were just seeing the Informant today.” 

“I had a thought last night and I’ll share it once we’re back. Not here.” He said quietly. “This way now.”

 

Aimée felt much more at ease as they left the nice end of town and returned what she was used to. They weren’t anywhere near where the safe house was but it was a similar neighbourhood. Decrepit buildings and piles of ash and downtrodden Skaa. That last part sobered Aimée up a little. 

Gael then lead them down an alleyway and Aimée tensed up. It was dark here with the over shadowed buildings and in some places the ash easily came up to her ankle. Aimée clenched a hand nervously. Francine had said they were meeting with an informant. Aimée just wished they didn’t hang out in such places. 

Partway down the alley was someone leaning back against the wall with a hat and popped collar covering their face. Typical informant. Aimée never had been fond of their type. They knew too much and the good ones gave away too little. 

This one turned towards them as they approached. “What have we here?” His voice was gruff but amused. “A washed up guard, a pyromaniac terrisman, and a very short noble?” His visible eye crossed over them all before settling on Aimée. “No, my mistake. The dirt tells me you’re at least half Skaa.”

A chill ran down her spin. Aimée absolutely hated informants she hated everything about them this one especially! Was that a guess or did he know? If he knew how soon until someone came to see her killed?

Francine and Gael seemed similarly put out but neither reacted and Aimée did her best to act the same. She didn’t want to give this man any indication that he had been right.

Gael only stepped forward and asked, “Are you the Informant who goes by Captain Robert?”

Captain Robert? Who the hell was this guy? Aimée pulled back a little as Gael began his business.

“I am indeed. I’d ask you for your name but your don’t strike me as kind to be polite.” Robert leaned back against the wall.

Gael gave a tense smile. “I’m just here for information. Do you take coin?”

Robert nodded. “I do indeed. What you wish to know determines the price of course.”

“Everything that you know about Hasting’s main house here in Austerex.” Gael said and held up what was left of the coin from selling the horse. “Guard patrols, plans, events. Everything you can tell me for what is in this bag.”

Aimée couldn’t see his mouth but from how the skin around his eyes crinkled she was sure Robert was smiling.

 

The coin, it turned out, was able to get a lot of information. The best piece was the information that Hasting was going to be exposed for a small time frame. There was a grain shipment coming in the next day that they were sending a good portion of their soldiers to keep it safe. Which meant their main house would be exposed.

The grin on Gael’s face as he learned that information was a little scary. “Thank you Captain Robert. Here’s your coin.” He tossed the bag. “Good day.”

Robert tipped his hat and Gael turned to leave. Aimée quickly followed suit and Francine tailed behind. And when they were just about to leave the alley Gael softly said, “Aimée, I’m interested in who Robert is speaking to now.” 

Confused Aimée glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough someone else, wearing a hood up, was standing near Robert now. She looked back to Gael who had paused just at the entrance of the alley. “Do… Do you want me to go listen in?” She tilted her head a little to the side. 

Gael nodded. “Please do. You’re stealthy aren’t you?”

That she was. Aimée looked back towards Robert and the mysterious stranger. There were some nooks in the looming buildings that she could hide in. She nodded after a moment. “I’ll be quick.” 

 

Aimée ducked against the wall first and crouched a little. Her feet barely made a scuffle in the ash. She tripped up a few times against uneven ground however towards the end and the moment she was close enough to hear anything she heard Robert call out “It’s not nice to spy you know.”

Aimée felt her heart thud against her chest.  _ Just walk away. _ She told herself as she began to shuffle backwards.  _ Act like this was a mistake- _

“And burning tin wouldn’t have helped either!”

It took a lot of self control not run back to Gael and Francine. Did he know? How?

 

“Well?” It was Francine who spoke. There was a snappish impatients to her words. “What did you find out?”

Aimée hunched her shoulders and looked away. “I was spotted.” Her wince was clearly visible as she waited for the resulting hit.

It never came. Instead, as she peeked open an eye, she heard Gael sigh. “It’s alright. Not important to us right now. I was merely curious.” There was a disappointment to his tone but none of the violent anger Aimée had been expecting.

Gael began to walk and Francine followed suit. Aimée actually stood there a moment dumbfounded. That had been a big slip up. She not only didn’t come back with anything useful she had been seen. Didn’t they care?

They did care if Francine’s grouchiness and Gael’s disappointment were any indication. They just weren’t taking it out on her.

Aimée quickly followed after them. Compared to life she had grown up in this was nearly luxury. How long until that ended?

 

**

 

“So we’ll hit them on three fronts.” Gael was writing with charcoal onto a couple pieces of paper. Even though she couldn’t understand it Aimée watched with interest. Seeing it done before her… Aimée wished she could read and write. It looked useful.

“Francine will go down to the docks where the shipment is scheduled to come through by boat. Pose as a new guard and see what you can learn about the shipment itself and see what other information you can find.” Gael explained while he pointed his charcoal stick at her.

She nodded. “I’ll do that. Hasting hires new guards all the time if I remember right.”

“Enough that one new guard on a very important grain shipment is not going to be noticed.” Gael smiled. “Now Aimée, you and I are going to go to the main house. We can sneak in as servants at different servant entrances. I want you,” now he was gesturing at her with the charcoal, “specifically to look for a study. If there’s any place to find important documents that would be it. Stick to the lower floors too.” He made some more notes on his papers. “I’ll take the top ones.”

“Don’t… Don’t Hasting servants have their own uniforms?” Aimée asked softly. She still wasn’t sure how much she could question the crew leader.

“They do. That’s why I will have to procure some. A big house like that is always,” he paused a moment, “taking on new servants.”

“Pro-cure?”

“Get. I’ll get us some uniforms.” he said patiently and made a final note on a paper before gathering all the papers and standing up. “Alright. We should gather what we need. Aimée,” he turned to her, “get yourself another Mistborn vial. You need to learn how to get those easily and safely without ending up with something that’s just filled with lead.”

 

Stunned Aimée nodded slowly. He made it sound so simple. She knew of metallurgist shops and likely could pose as a servant for a lord but it was still a scary thought. And by the sounds of it it seemed Gael just wanted her to go alone.

 

“Oh yes.” Gael turned back around with two small bags in one hand and the larger bundle of cloth from the arms shop. “There are yours.” He handed her a small bag first. Something inside clinked as she took it. “That’s a bag of clips. Not just money but for when you burn steel.” Aimée peeked inside. Indeed the small coins filled the bag. 

It was more money than she had ever had in her lifetime.

“I know Nosmont said not to practice your other metals but if it comes down to it and you need to defend yourself...” Gael explained. “So you can use those for steel jumping or you can… Shoot them into people. I’ve seen Nosmont do it.”

Aimée nodded. “Alight-” she began but stopped as Gael began to hand more things to her.

“This is some coin for yourself…” He handed her a much smaller coin pouch, “and these are for defending yourself. You’re a Mistborn so I figured you should have these.” he handed her the bundle of cloth. It was heavy. “Be careful with them. They’re sharp but also damage easily.”

Confused, Aimée unwrapped the cloth. And almost dropped it as she saw what was inside.

Twin blades, carved from a dark purple-black glass-like material with leather wrapped around their handles, stared up at her. Each were a little longer than her forearm. They looked eerily similar to the blade she had found sticking out of her Mother’s chest.

 

“What’s wrong with you?” Francine’s voice broke through the fog of Aimée’s mind. “Are you  _ trembling _ ?”

She blinked. Her hands were shaking. “No.” Aimée said quickly and covered the blades again. “Just surprised.” Her heart was thudding painfully against her chest.

Gael gave her an odd look before nodding. “Fine. Make sure you get that vial today. The plan is for tomorrow.”

“... I just need to grab something.” And without another word Aimée just about dashed to the back room.

Thankfully neither Francine nor Gael followed her. Aimée set the blades Gael gave her onto her cot and pulled out her bag from under the sheet. She carefully tipped the contents out. There were some discolored coins, a pretty piece of pink glass, and a purple-black knife.

This one looked a little different. It’s edge was serrated and it was a smoother finish compared to the ones Gael had gotten her. There was even something engraved into the leather wrapped around the handle.

But they were the same kind of blades even if one was clearly more expensive. That one Aimée had been holding on the night her Mother died. She remembered pulling it out of her Mother’s chest. Vaguely. 

She thought back to what Eri had told her long ago. How that night had looked to her a nobleman cleaning up his so called mess. Gael claimed that only nobles or half nobles could be Mistborn so that meant Eri was probably right.

But Gael had also said that Aimée should be given these blades since she was a Mistborn. Which meant people associated the blades with them. And if this had been her Father’s blade…

It would make the act of killing him in revenge much more difficult. 


End file.
